Four Shall Ride
by treneka
Summary: Past India to the fields of Meggido, the four are riding. Warnings: language and Gojyo's mind, but that's about it.


a/n: Why stick to one mythology when you can screw up two at once? laughs Anyway, thanks to Wilde for her assistance.

**Four Shall Ride**

_And the seventh angel poured forth his bowl, and a voice cried out from heaven saying, "It is done."  
- The Revelation of John_

"My brother on horseback? You've got to be kidding me." The demon adjusted himself in the shadow of their cover, taking the binoculars from Yaone to peer out across the valley floor.

"I think the terrain must have been too rocky for their Jeep," she commented.

Sure enough, there was the red-head, perched precariously on an animal that somehow looked far more noble than its rider. "A _white_ horse? Who does he think he is? Prince Charming?" Doku laughed a bit at the thought of what poor princess could have screwed up badly enough to deserve such a savior.

Beside him, Yaone shivered. "No, I don't think that's it."

---

"My ass is never gonna survive this," grumbled Gojyo over the ears of the bleach-white stallion. Sure, it made a pretty picture; the lanky, graceful man atop the powerfully built creature, bow resting forgotten alongside the saddle while the sun turned the man's hair into a corona of scarlet and gold. Unfortunately, to one unaccustomed to riding (or at least to riding horses), the experience was becoming a test of stamina and thigh flexibility. He was eerily certain that places he considered very important were going to be annoyingly raw by the time they finally stopped. "Who the fuck decided on horses, anyway?"

Just then, Goku galloped past on his scrawny black pony, whooping and laughing. Question answered. "This is awesome! It's a lot better than walking, anyway," he clarified, wheeling the pony to draw alongside the kappa. It was somehow insulting that the kid could ride like a gaucho. Then again, maybe his brain had more in common with a horse's than a human's...

"Let's see you say that when you can't walk tomorrow, stupid monkey."

"I'm not a monkey!" the monkey retorted, and kicked his steed into a canter.

Of course, knowing Goku, the kid would be fresh as a daisy while all the rest of them were crippled for a week. Unless Sanzo decided to just kill him. The monk's habitual sour expression had a definite edge of weariness and Gojyo wondered if the combination of bunched robes and tight jeans might be chafing worse than his own loose-fitting cargo pants. The hanyou smirked. There was something deeply satisfying in the thought of Sanzo houshi-sama walking funny for a day or two. Then again, if one speculated on other possible causes for such behaviour... Had Gojyo been Hakkai, he would likely have stopped right there, but Gojyo was Gojyo, so he spent a good half hour contemplating all manner of debauched, corrupt scenarios into which the monk could potentially fall. It put a smile in his eyes and was a grand distraction from the increasingly uncomfortable shifting of muscle and leather beneath him.

Huh... muscle and leather. His cogitations on the tainting of Sanzo took on a darker edge, and suddenly his mind reeled with it. Sure he was every bit the perverted kappa the monkey accused him of being, but this was going a bit beyond. All amusements aside, he didn't sleep with guys, didn't fantasize about friends and sure as hell didn't obsess about icy monks who would probably shoot him for his current line of thought. _Or do I...?_ Abruptly disturbed, he took a deep breath and focused on the monkey's antics as the boy rode ahead of him. This journey was enough to do a head trip on anyone, and Gojyo decided he was thinking too much. Better to concentrate on his desperate need of a cigarette for a while. Tomorrow, they'd reach an inn, and he'd get as polluted as possible, find some willing night bloomer to corrupt, and be himself by morning if it killed him. But first, he'd kill this horse.

---

"That Goku can really ride. Wonder where he learned it." As they watched, the youth suddenly leaned all the way to the ground, snatching something up. The pony staggered with the unbalanced motion, but didn't fall. As for Goku, he appeared to be eating something, calm as a cucumber and rock steady in the saddle.

"He picks things up pretty quickly," answered Yaone, speculatively.

---

He liked riding. He really liked it. He liked the horse and he liked the way the wind whipped through his hair when they galloped and he liked the fact that he was a lot better at it than the stupid water sprite. The only thing he didn't like was that it was a lot harder work than sitting in the back of Jeep (all bouncing aside) and he was getting really hungry.

He'd been hungry when they'd left the last village. That was nothing new, but eating the entire bag of meat buns that Hakkai had gotten him as a snack for along the way hadn't helped, and the jerky he'd stolen from Gojyo's saddlebags didn't help either. By noon, he'd been scavenging prickly pears and crickets from the desert floor. His stomach growled and moaned with emptiness, and only the energy of his skinny, obsidian mount distracted him at all. Flipping the reigns, the looped his path back to rejoin the others.

"Sanzooooo, I'm hungry!" But something in the monk's wordless glare silenced him with unusual effectiveness. Turning instead to Hakkai, he put on his best pleading look. "Hakkai?" The green-eyed demon gave him a frighteningly superficial smile, but reached into his packs and handed the boy an apple. His gaze lingered on the scales tied to the pommel of Goku's saddle.

"Thanks, 'Kai!" His words were muffled by the chunks of apple already inhabiting his mouth. A gaze like jade noted the way the usually carefree boy ate even the core before licking his fingers long past the point that they might have carried any trace of juice.

"Does that tide you over?" There was clinical curiosity in the question, but Goku didn't hear it. His stomach was already grumbling again.

"Not really..." but he didn't hold out any hope of further apples and Hakkai did not offer. Instead, the older man turned to look behind him to the monk.

"'A measure of wheat for a penny, and three measures of barley for a penny; and see thou hurt not the oil and wine.'" His false smile was almost ironic in its introspection.

"Huh? What's all that about, Hakkai?" But his friend's eyes lingered on Sanzo and did not explain. Sighing, the boy leaned back in his saddle, urging his pony to prance while he tried not to think about the gnawing emptiness in his gut.

---

"Um, Doku, when did Hakkai start carrying a sword?" Yaone sounded rather worried as she handed the binoculars back. The party was getting closer now, and as they spurred their mounts along the twisting trail through the foothills, the glinting hilt of a sword could be seen sheathed at the healer's left hip.

Doku paused to finish a sip of water before once again leaning over to fix the party in his lenses. A glance confirmed her odd intelligence and he wondered what was going on. Hakkai fought with chi or claws when he fought at all. Did the man even know how to use a sword? A slight adjustment brought the group into better focus, and Doku suddenly had to make an effort not to gasp. For just a moment, he could have sworn the slayer of a thousand youkai was looking straight at him with the promise of conflict in his eyes. He blinked, and the moment was gone, but he couldn't think of any answer for the woman at his side.

---

The mare was bay, but in the last light of the day her coat shone red. She was young and skittish, and Hakkai had been fighting her flighty moods and sensitive mouth since the beginning of their ride. It was unsettling how every prancing step seemed to transmit nervous energy straight up his spine. It was disturbing that the smell of her sweat reminded him of the terrified-yet-so-alive smell of battle about to be joined. Just sitting on her, he felt stronger; infused with a restless power while a frighteningly familiar dream of blood and death rustled in the depths of his mind.

He had noticed the bow tied to the straps of Gojyo's mount's saddle. He had seen the scales Goku toyed with. He had easily identified the colors and the sigils, but he had said nothing, and now he wondered why. Was this truly what he wanted? Up ahead, the redhead was arguing with the boy and even as Hakkai's lips curved in an idle smile at the familiar sight, a dark ripple of unholy pleasure murmured in his conscience. It wouldn't take much – a word, a glance, a seemingly thoughtless gesture – and he could have them at each other's throats. He was sure of it.

Between his thighs, he felt the mare's breath coming quicker. Her nostrils flared and her flanks trembled in a too-sympathetic reaction to her rider's excitement. He knew she had something to do with it. He knew that some of the musings amid his thoughts were not his own, but their darkness had an intoxicating quality like fine wine or the first thrust of an opponent's blade. Oh, ye gods and monsters indeed. Perhaps today's game was more esoteric, but a little variety in an endless journey westward was not necessarily a bad thing. Provided that an opponent would indeed appear...

The healer bit his tongue to taste the blood and felt his wayward mare grow calm with it. His fingers itched for combat, for a fight, and he prayed an attack would come before... before... _Before I take matters into my own hands. Before I dispense with earrings and diadems and draw a fiery sword just for the release of it. Before I cry havoc, dear god let us be attacked._ The tiny human remnant of his heart was breaking with the strain, but the pain never made it as far as his face. Soft lips formed a polite smile beneath a deceptive tsavarite stare. Was that a reflection up there on the hill? On the reigns, his fingers twitched, but the mare's steps had grown sure. He felt the solid presence of iron and agony at his hip.

"Do anything stupid and I'll shoot you." The slight perfume of Marlboros reminded the healer of a more immediate reality. With an effort, Hakkai pushed the pull of conflict aside, and remembered who he was. He laughed.

"Ah... ha. Of course." But he was grateful. "I believe we are being observed." He nodded his head very casually in the direction of the outcropping, being careful not to alert their watchers. The monk fixed him with a perceptive glance, but then allowed his eyes to slide away, taking in the hillside.

"Today is not the day to mess with me." The monk sounded unusually matter-of-fact. He looked speculatively at his companion. "Then again, it might not be a bad thing to get off these damn horses for a few minutes. Next time, we're walking. I don't care how much the monkey begs." Sanzo didn't say it, but they both knew who really decided travel arrangements for the group. Hakkai smiled ruefully.

"Agreed." The brunette relaxed slightly in his saddle, noting with faint amusement how the mare shied from a bit of wind-blown shrubbery. She shook her head and snorted, once again uneasy. "They are, perhaps, more hindrance than help." He turned to see whether the monk would answer, but Sanzo's mount had fallen back. Looking behind, Hakkai could see their dragon flying almost level with the blonde's right heel, and he wondered just how far their equine companions' influence reached.

---

"What color would you call Sanzo's horse?" Doku was starting to feel the edginess that accompanied preparations for a fight. He wasn't usually much of a talker, but the dark and increasingly somber attitude of his companion at this lookout were starting to wear on him. She seemed to realize this, and took the binoculars from him, gamely enough, peering down the twilit trail. The sun that shimmered on its approach to the horizon had abandoned the eastern slope. In the growing dimness below the watchers, the horse's color was indeed rather difficult to define.

"Pale," she murmured at last. The statement did nothing to lighten her mood. Doku gave up.

---

Sanzo watched Hakkai's back through the deepening wash of shadows. Sometimes he wondered why he put up with the man's melodrama. _ Life is pain, so get over it already. Only death is easy._ The fingers of his right hand closed around the handle of the revolver in his sleeve. Sometimes, he wondered if it would be better to put those three out of their misery, or at least out of his. Sentimentality aside, he knew he could kill them, but under no circumstances were they allowed to kill themselves (or do something as pathetic as die for any other reason).

He yawned. It really was time to stop for the night, but Hakkai hadn't halted yet, and Sanzo could not bring himself to care. At least the monkey was out of ear shot. The monkey had been more irritating than ever today. He was noisy and hyper and so damn lively that just watching him could wear a person out. That whining voice was enough to wake the dead and there was something just plain wrong with any creature who could go without food for five hundred years, but not die. In his sleeve, Sanzo's hand had begun to tighten on the gun. He wondered if Goku were more mortal these days. There can be no true life without death, and something in him wanted to know beyond a shadow of a doubt whether Goku were capable of living.

Something in his chest tightened at that thought, but his fingers didn't seem to notice. The revolver peeked out from the sleeve, resting half hidden in the horse's pale mane. At his heels, Hakuryuu's red eyes glowed against the darkness.

Inevitable as taxes, the priest brought up the rear.

---

"Kougaiji said to let him know when they were five minutes away." Yaone stood, stretching.

"I'll call him." Doku stowed the binoculars in his pack and was reaching for the radio when suddenly, they were not alone.

Their leader stood on a rock above them, silhouetted against the gilded clouds. He stared down the trail in the direction of the approaching enemy, and took a deep draught from the bowl in his hands. His face was serene in the growing dimness. His eyes held an odd mixture of madness and grim determination. Glancing down at his subordinates, he dumped the rest of the bowl's contents on the rock and leapt lightly to the ground beside them.

"Well, this is it. We're finishing it today." Their leader's voice was cold, hardened with a note of finality they had not heard before. Doku stared at him, unsure of how to respond, while in Yaone's chest the uneasiness which had dogged her all day resolved itself into a terrifying realization of purpose. In the end, they both chose to simply nod and ready their weapons.

Kougaiji accepted their acknowledgment with a strained smile. Then his face fell into its habitual battle mask. They heard him speak words of summoning and watched as fire flared around his shoulders and between his hands. On the wind was a sound akin to trumpets.

"Been nice knowing you," Doku murmured. Yaone gave him a last smile. The sun sank at last below the horizon and they turned to meet the fate coming up the hill.

_-ende-_


End file.
